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I wrote this a few months ago, I think but, as I write in my notebook, I never got round to typing it up - until today.

This is set just after Andrae told Laurelin how he feels about her, knowing that she is with Tancred and just really a confession rather than asking her to love him back. He then, after she rejected him, went and got drunk to drink away the pain at some tavern and went and got some girl pregnant. (It's all part of my master plan.)

I know Fynrir is not threatened by war but I'm pretty sure that I'm entitled to say it is, to write a story.

Before you read, please not that although I'm not a great author, the disjointed stuff is purposeful. I'm trying to portray Andrae's thought as realistically as possible even though, for me, it is impossible to show the depth of his mind. Also, he isn't always that depressed and gloomy - he's really a great and nice guy, you'd excuse him if you'd been through all the horrible experiences that I forced him through.

Despair

Andrae lay there; contemplating love; missing Laurelin but it did not matter. He could tell that much. Fynrir was doomed anyway - the Albae were planning a mass invasion. There was no way that the alliance of elves, men and dwarves could beat them. Fynrir was peaceful; she barely grasped the concept of war. The Albae would take over. It was inevitable. There was nothing that they could do; Fynrir would die.

Yes, they. Andrae would fight. He had not decided it, more realised that it was fate. It was clear to him. There was nothing left for him to live for anymore. His family were dead or lost and Laurelin belonged to another. The child... He would fight and die to save his child. But did it matter? The child was ill fated anyway, as the Albae would kill anything that was mainly elf, as the baby-to-be would be. Andrae was going to die in any case, in his miserable existence, it might as well be to try to save another soldier from dying; being murdered; tortured.

Most of Fynrir either was in despair or determined to win. Andrae wished to know which group his love was part of. His love. Laurelin. Thinking about her very name sent goosebumps down his stretched-out body, where it was, lying on his own bed for the first time in months. He must push any thoughts of Laurelin far from his mind but it was so hard, she kept drifting back. She would be safe anyway, living with Tancred in Albaeir. She may even come back to Fynrir one day, purely to find him but he would be long dead, his body among countless others, littering the battlefield, rotting -slowly- food for wild animals. She would never know what had happened. Of course, Andrae wanted her to know. He wanted her to think that at least he was brave as he marched away with his regiment, not knowing that it was his despair not courage, driving him onwards. He desperately wished that she were the wife, crying into his shoulder, begging him not to leave, waving a tear-strewn handkerchief as he turned away while promising her that he would return. She would tell the child of his heroism - Andrae’s not Tancred’s.

She would then be a widow, he supposed but with something to cherish back home and he might survive, whereas, this way, he had already lost the will to live before the battle had even begun. This way, no one would miss him; no one would weep to see him leave. It was a shame that ‘this way’ was the way that would take him to his death.

Andrae’s eyes watered just thinking about it. He could not hear the wind battering the walls of his house. It howled and whistled but I doubt that Andrae would have noticed if it had started singing merrily, unless it sounded remotely like his dearest Laurelin.

‘Why is Laurelin all I ever think of?’

For a few moments, Andrae entertained the notion of doing something, anything, to spend a little time each day not remembering her at all. He could get a hobby or a job. Then, with a jolt, he remembered his choice. His choice to die.

But that sounds like suicide. I presume that one could think of it as suicide but Andrae preferred not to. He would prefer not to think, full stop, but it was all he ever did. He needed new interests, before he died.

Death did not scare Andrae. It was merely a way of changing all you know and letting you enter the next world, wherever it was. Losing one he loved, however, was a different story. He had already lost all of those he held dear, all except Berryl, but Berryl had others - she did not need him. His sisters, his parents, his friends who had all forgotten that he even existed. And now Laurelin. No! He must not think of her. She should just fly from his thought, never to return. It was hopeless. Only when he died would he be free. Which brings me back to my point: Death did not scare Andrae. Everyone died, at different points in their lives but they die nonetheless. What was the point in postponing it for a few hundred years when his life was so worthless?

He thought back to all those times where he had seen her at a distance, looking r4avishing as usual. He could watch her from a rooftop for hours, when she was just doing everyday things, outside. He never would invade her privacy by watching her when she was inside. It was strange that she had never noticed him as she was usually so alert, but he was skilled in secrecy. He could not watch her anymore. If he were discovered, she would never forgive him. When they were coming down the mountain, he was sure that she wouldn’t. It tore his heart to pieces to be the cause of her anger. Why did he have to confess his love? There had not seemed to be an option in all his months of planning. Now that it was done he thought himself a fool. Why could he not leave it be to remain in her company? she might have worked it out for herself one day and then, what would have happened? She would not have been able to blame him. They might have stayed friends. He might not be going to die; he might not have doomed his child. Well he would not have a child.

A child. In less than a year, he would be a father. And dead. His child would never know him. His child may never even know that he existed. His child may not survive the Albae attack. Again, he asked why.

‘Why did I ever ask her to kiss me? Why did I go to that tavern after leaving her? Why did I drink that last beer?’

Laurelin. She meant the world to him. Andrae could not believe that he meant so little to her. Did he mean nothing to her? Was it at all possible that he meant absolutely nothing to his dear, beloved Laurelin?

Lizzie, that's so sad and beautiful at the same time. *tears up* You did a wonderful job. I feel so bad for Andrae, so does Arikae. She misses him. Fantasic job, so much emotion went into this and so much hard work, I can tell. You did a great job.

*pokes* What are you talking about!? You are an amazing writer, don't doubt yourself! =) You made me start crying, which has caused Laurelin to stare at me and call me conceited when it comes to her, in which case I had to agree. The whole piece was about her, how could I not like it? XD

In any event, it was amazing! I loved it, it was so beautiful Lizzie! The emotion was very real, it literally did make me start to cry. It was just lovely, so lovely.

Oh my God, I love you guys! But goodness, you guys must cry easily! I thought that no one would even get it because they don't like inside Andrae's head. Is it strange that I live inside the head of a figment of my own imagination who in turn technically lives inside my head? It's a complex circle of twisting turns.

I am so cruel and black-hearted and now he has a future I seem to refuse to write about him so I'm delaying his torment even more.

I have a plot for how Andrae and Journey could meet - though it involves Laurelin too. But I need to finish the story that leads to it first and post it so you can read it and work from there. Must Write!